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And yet, he survived.
And I "died
What was the difference?
As I said, it was a difference of luck. But does that really decide
everything?
Is perhaps being able to go to "heaven" or not, also decided in such a
way? Those with good luck can go to heaven and those with bad luck cannot? Is
that all?
Regardless of nobility or pride.
Regardless of good deeds or humanity.
......I do wonder, with what sort of meaning my mother used the word
"heaven" to begin with?--- It is not something to be thinking about at this point,
but my understanding of it is too vague.
It is truly hard for me to think of it as the "heaven" usually based on
religious devotion. Did it simply mean "a happier place than here?"--- But
honestly, you could find a place better than that town pretty much anywhere,
couldn't you? You could make the extreme argument that all places besides that
one were "heaven To take one step outside the Brando house, to take just one
step into that bottom-rung town, for her, that became "happiness
She was able to go to "heaven
It was like my mother was like an ascetic monk performing penance in
order to achieve enlightenment, the way she lived--- and died, in that town.
Was that love, or some such thing?
Love for my father and love for me.
And love for the inhabitants of that town--- like a holy woman.
Was it something like that?
......If everything is based on luck, then making a record like this, as well
as my groping for a way to get to heaven itself, loses all meaning. Because no
matter how much I've thought about it, no matter how much I rack my brains---
no matter how much I've schemed, due to unforeseen circumstances, due to
unpredictable developments, everything will come to nothing.